Function
by Why No Revival
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki, frontman for the upcoming band, Soul Society, is tired of being sexually deprived by his boyfriend, Shinji. After he takes the chance and spends the night with a blue-haired stranger, he finds all order in his life gone. AU, Grimmichi
1. Good Ideas

AN: So you, the reader, can view each chapter the way I do, I have included a soundtrack for each segment. Please listen to these songs to get the full story.

Chapter One - Good Ideas

OK Go - Here It Goes Again

Ichigo suavely leaned up against Shinji's hunched shoulders with a mischievous smirk on his countenance. His slender fingers drummed methodically against the the yellowed, torn fabric of the antique couch behind the blonde's head, making him shiver with excitement and anticipation. Shinji's mouth stuck out in a subtle pout. Ichigo was sorely tempted to bite down on those pink, cherubic lips and let his hands wander where they wanted. On the end-table beside them the newest hit by Soul Society, Ichigo's band, softly filtered through the black gauze of speakers. He started to hum along with the melody.

Hey, Sunshine

You shouldn't be on the streets

At this time

Hey, Sunshine

Let me keep you safe and

Warm tonight

"Hey, Sunshine." Ichigo sang softly as he ran his hand down Shinji's quivering thigh. He used his other hand to pull Shinji's silky strands of hair behind his ear and whispered huskily in his subtle Irish brogue. "That song is about you y'know." His knuckles 'accidentally' brushed against the upper part of Shinji's thigh, making him clench his teeth in restraint. Shinji's hazel eyes met Ichigo's brown ones in a lustful gaze. Ichigo went in for the kill again, this time with far more purpose. He suddenly squeezed Shinji's weak, wobbling knees and leaned in with parted lips. Shinji, eager as hell, pressed his mouth to Ichigo's in a tender, passionate kiss. Within seconds, their tongues were dancing confidently against each other's and the two males' hands were roaming all over their bodies - Shinji's hands were pressed hard against Ichigo's abs, underneath his screen-printed tee, while Ichigo's fingers were slowly, almost teasingly, kneading Shinji's firm, round buttocks.

Shinji broke away from the kiss, gasping for air. Ichigo, who was clearly ready for more, nipped at Shinji's earlobe.

"Shit, Ichigo." Shinji breathed. He dug his hands into Ichigo's bright red shock of hair, but kept his face downward and stared at the hardwood floor. "My roommate is in the bathroom. He could come out at any moment."

"He knows." Ichigo slipped a finger between Shinji's cheeks, eliciting a gasp from the other male. "It's not like it would be the first time he's walked in on us." He laughed into Shinji's hair and continued toward his destination slowly.

"Nngh..." Shinji grunted, pressing into Ichigo's red-hot touch. He felt pleasure overrun his brain and all logic slip through his fingers when Ichigo prodded his ring of tight muscles. Ichigo's skilled fingertip started to enter and then-

"G'morning." Enter the comedic roommate - Renji Abarai - a very straight man who surprisingly supported Shinji's sexual choices. "Sorry to interrupt." He flashed a brilliantly white smile. How one could smoke so much and still have a smile that a dentist would envy was beyond Ichigo's comprehension. Renji was a nice guy. In fact, if he wasn't straight as uncooked spaghetti, Ichigo probably would have hit on him mercilessly. Instead, Ichigo and Renji kept it at the level of a comfortable, platonic friendship. In fact, they had become such good friends that they founded the band Soul Society together. Renji had a lot of experiences with guitars and Ichigo was practically lethal on drums. Together, they were unstoppable, but they needed a bass player to complete the group and get the sound they desperately sought.

Of course, that will all be explained later. For now, let's return to the situation at hand.

Ichigo removed his hand from Shinji's pants. While Shinji blushed furiously, Ichigo crossed his legs to casually cover his erection as a courtesy to Renji.

"Hey, Renji." Shinji awkwardly placed a limp pillow over his lap and shot daggers at the smug Ichigo next to him. Sometimes Ichigo had no restraint, but it was usually due to the outfits Shinji wore. Today, Ichigo had walked into the apartment only to see Shinji shirtless in sagging corduroy jeans. He had tackled him right then and there, much to Shinji's disdain. He wasn't one for PDAs unless he was stressed out.

"Shinji, you going to the gig tonight?" Renji queried sincerely, pouring himself a cup of orange juice. He sipped it while keeping his eyes on the still aroused couple.

Shinji peered over at Ichigo before responding. "If I can get away from work." He mouthed the word "sorry."

" 'S alright, Sunshine." Ichigo bit down on the inside of his cheek. "Try, though." It always ended up like this. Ichigo would try to get his boyfriend to come to one of their gigs, but the blonde always had something to do. It made Ichigo very suspicious.

Renji walked into the miniscule living room and sat down across from them in a cushiony chair. "Are we gonna start lookin' tonight?" He bit into a glazed donut.

"Yeah, sure." Ichigo paused. "Wait, at the show?"

"Not during. Afterward."

"Okay." Ichigo exhaled sharply and turned his molten chocolate gaze toward Shinji, who was throwing on the t-shirt he had been planning to wear earlier, before Ichigo assaulted him. It was a shirt that Ichigo had screen-printed for him a good three years ago - when they hung out for the second time.

Stompin' Bird - Rave On

_"Is it hard?" Shinji asked, leaning up against the multifaceted machine with curiosity gleaming in his wide eyes. The room looked like something from a different universe. The room itself was a concrete box with two windows, but Ichigo had decorated it to the tee. Flashing, noisy pinball machines were pressed together to fit along the walls. Above them was art that couldn't really be classified as such - plastered roadkill, velvet paintings of unicorns and crying clowns whose eyes would follow you. Half-empty coffee cups covered every surface, except for the vintage, mauve record player which Ichigo seemed to treasure more than his family jewels. Currently it was blasting Rave On by Stompin' Bird._

_"Yeah, but after a while you get some muscle." Ichigo demonstrated by jokingly flexing his arms before returning to positioning the shirt. Shinji stared and swallowed hard. Ichigo chuckled at him and pulled down the screen-printing mesh, pressing it hard against the white t-shirt underneath. "So how long have you known?" He lifted it and removed the t-shirt. It had a picture of strawberries on it. Shinji always joked about Ichigo's hair color and had wanted something to constantly remind him of the redhead._

_Shinji took the shirt with furrowed eyebrows. "Known what?" He took off his shirt to try on the new clothing, but kind of forgot and just stood there with his long-sleeve only on his thin arms._

_"Y'know." Ichigo smiled deviously and suddenly grabbed Shinji's slim waist. His thumbs rubbed in tiny circles as he spoke again. "That you like cock."_

_"What the fu-" Not wanting to hear anything else beside the blonde's moans, Ichigo's lips silenced Shinji's. Needless to say, they had a heated make-out session before having sex in every room of the house._

Nowadays, Shinji rarely wanted to participate in anything more intimate than the occasional tongue in mouth. Today had been Ichigo's lucky day until Renji decided to show up. If they had gone to the bedroom, Shinji's mood would have disintegrated the moment they sat on the bed. If Ichigo didn't get any action soon, he might have eternal blue balls.

::::

Modest Mouse - Florida

"Look, I know Shinji has been a prude lately, but that doesn't mean you can get wasted before the show." Renji's only vice was smoking, so he looked down on drunk people.

Ichigo had gone through one too many shots. "It's your fault, anyways." He motioned to the bartender for more.

"Way to enforce the Irish stereotype, Ichigo." Renji rolled his eyes and gave up. Yes, Ichigo was half-Irish, half-Japanese and he was fully aware of the way that he acted when drunk: feisty. While he was insulted by the typical portrayal of his kin, he perfectly fit the mold of his redhead family. The only thing Ichigo had inherited from his father was his scowl, which his father rarely showed.

After Ichigo had a few more shots and a beer, he was thoroughly hammered. He had never been this drunk. Usually, he tried to be responsible, but Shinji had pushed him over the edge. He stumbled over to the stage of the tiny bar. This was one of their smaller venues that they had only played at a few times - mainly because their growing popularity required bigger venues, at least back in Japan. However, Renji was more comfortable with a pistol against his forehead than with a crowd five feet away from his shaking legs. It didn't help that their tour in America (which wasn't as nice as everyone said) was so under-publicized that it was practically a secret. In Okinawa, Ichigo had men and women alike screaming his name orgasmically whenever he opened his mouth, but in Oklahoma, nobody batted an eyelash at him. Sure, it was refreshing to not have people stare at his hair, but it was even worse to have people not. He had been thrust into this strange place one month ago, when the tour started.

While Shinji had gone with him, it didn't really feel like he was every there - his work came with him. Shinji, despite his personality, was a genius. He was a journalist - a good one. He wasn't your typical writer with a bad case of procrastination, which Ichigo would have preferred, but a goody-two-shoes writer with a strong sense of guilt.

"So I like alcohol." Ichigo slurred to nobody in particular before wandering over to the stage after drinking another shot. Damn, he was very drunk. He had never performed while this drunk. The only thing he had ever done while this drunk was pass out.

"Heeeeello." Ichigo mumbled into the microphone. Some of the bar's inhabitants turned toward him with questioning looks on their faces and chuckled at his display of intoxication. "We're Soul Society."

People turned back to nursing their drinks and hitting on each other. Ichigo hit his drumsticks together fast. Definitely not the usual pace. Renji sent the drummer and singer a look of warning. They were supposed to start their set with Hey, Sunshine, but it seemed that Ichigo was in the mood for one of their angrier, faster songs. Figured.

Renji strummed the chord slowly to get a taste for the song. Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows and bit down hard while he recalled the lyrics.

Then came the loud crash of drums, the vibration of Renji's low E string before he launched into a hard, catchy riff. The bass drum reverberated throughout the bar each time Ichigo slammed his foot down. Heads began turning as Ichigo sang the first word - his voice tinted with anger and need.

_Well, I want what I want_

_I need what I need_

_But I need you_

_To give it to me_

Toes tapped. Cymbals crashed. Strings bounced.

_Who's home right now?_

_Nah, I don't give a shit_

_Bend over, honey_

_And bite down on your bit_

Eyelashes fluttered. Heads bopped. Ichigo growled.

_I need a fix_

_Quick_

_Quick_

_Right goddamn now_

Azure eyes stared. Mocha eyes closed. Chocolate eyes twitched.

::::

The Arctic Monkeys - A Certain Romance

"Holy shit. You should play drunk more often." Renji gaped at the drummer, who was laying cheek-down on the table. "I've never heard you sound that good. I take back everything I said about beer. It rocks. Beer rocks."

"Fuckin'... ugh..." Ichigo stood up and meandered through the crowd, away from the talkative redhead. People's faces were a complete blur and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. The bathroom door swung open and he stepping into a stall in time to vomit thick stomach acids. The smell of it made him dry heave, even though his stomach was trembling. He flushed it down with both hands, as he couldn't stand and had to use the toilet to stand up. Ichigo forgot what he was doing and stood there, tasting the beer and vomit on his tongue. After shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he approached a sink and splashed icy cold water on his face. It stung a little, but it slightly sobered him up. He rested his hand on his neck and stared at his reflection with disdain. His neck was unblemished, near perfect. Not a hickey in sight. He hated it. He closed his eyes and immediately, he saw Shinji. Goddamn, the man was practically tattooed on the backs of his eyelids. He really wanted to have sex with his boyfriend. Really badly. However, he hated having to take initiative in every encounter of the sexual kind. Could Shinji, just for once, take the lead?

He propped his head up on the back of his hands, his elbows on the stained, porcelain sink. The bathroom was vandalized thoroughly, as any bar bathroom should be. Poorly drawn breasts had been scrawled on the mirror in Sharpie, making Ichigo look like the opposite gender. He hissed in disgust and started to read the walls.

_I don't want the world, I just want your half_

(And beneath that, so artfully put:)

_faggot_

Ichigo mourned for the loss of humanity by slamming his fist against the wall, hard enough to draw attention, but not enough to hurt himself.

The door behind him swung open and footsteps entered the room. He looked down, hoping to not make eye contact with whoever needed to take a piss.

"Are you Ichigo?"

His head snapped up and he turned around, only to to run into a brick wall. His eyes travelled upward to meet a solemn face capped with electric blue locks. Underneath the man's bangs, eyes of the same hue gazed.

"Yeah. You need something?"

The man looked offended. Ichigo couldn't blame him.

"I was just going to tell you that was a good show." They stared, glared, stood at an impasse. "My name is Grimmjow." Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow at Ichigo, who all of a sudden looked fragile - like glass about to drop. Brown and blue clashed, danced around each other. Both men tried to read each other, to no avail. A silent battle ensued in the orange, graffiti covered bathroom.

"So you liked it." Ichigo finally answered.

"Yeah, I actually had heard your stuff before." Grimmjow relaxed and leaned against the wall, his arms folded over each other neatly. Ichigo took a moment to take in the appearance of the man. He was tall, probably a few inches taller than Ichigo, and he was a tad more built. Ichigo subtly observed the way Grimmjow's forearms flexed every few moments, as if he was holding himself back. The man wore a thin, white, ribbed tank-top with a flannel over it and gray, skinny jeans. He looked like a lumberjack in that ridiculous green plaid, but still attractive. his Doc Marten clad feet tapped quietly, as if music were playing. Stubble stuck out along his impeccable jaw. Ichigo found himself wondering if Grimmjow had danced to his music, if his body moved smoothly, if his body moved smoother when...

Ichigo gulped quietly and averted his gaze. He felt dirty, which wasn't entirely unsettling. "Live or CD?"

"Only CD." Grimmjow shoved his hands into his pockets and continued to look straight at Ichigo, which made him want to slip out of his skin. "I've never been to Japan. Just Europe, but I prefer America. It's simple here."

Ichigo 'pff'ed. "The opposite for me. I can't figure this place out."

"But your English is amazing." Grimmjow retaliated. "You've really never been here before?"

"Nope, but when I was a kid, I was taught English pretty early. My mom had really bad Japanese, so we mostly avoided it."

"You sing in English pretty good, too." For some reason, Grimmjow's soft compliments were making Ichigo squirm.

"Thanks." Ichigo muttered, locking eyes with the taller man. He found himself unable to look away. The alcohol was still strong in his system, and logic didn't seem like such a good idea. Ichigo's eyes darted from Grimmjow's dilated pupils to his lips for a millisecond, but the blue-haired man caught it. A smirk appeared on those irresistible lips along with a different feel in the stuffy room. Ichigo felt a mixture of arousal and fright pump through his veins.

"Ya feeling alright?" Grimmjow teased, taking a step forward from the wall. Ichigo in turn took a step backward, although his libido was screaming at him to go for it. He had never been the approached - he always did the approaching.

Ichigo kept stepping backward until his back was flat against the side of the stall. His heart was pounding so damn fast that he thought it was going to burst into tiny little pieces from all this excitement. Grimmjow seemed a lot different now - more commanding - and Ichigo felt very overwhelmed by it. It was interesting to see the other side of the situation, although he did feel a little helpless as Grimmjow put his hands next to Ichigo's face, calloused fingers brushing against his cheek. Ichigo stifled a gasp.

"You gonna answer me... Ichigo?" Grimmjow whispered huskily. Ichigo's dick twitched in the slightest, but his face showed it. He hadn't had an assisted release in a very, very long time. No longer nervous (the alcohol was going through more of his body now that his heart was faster than a hummingbird's,) Ichigo placed a hand on Grimmjow's chest with raised eyebrows.

"Shut up." Ichigo growled, offering his lips in a pout, just like Shinji would do when he actually wanted a kiss.

Oh, shit.

Shinji.

Ichigo's face screwed up into a scowl. Fuck it. Fuck Shinji (if he could.)

"Are ya okay with this?" Grimmjow had noticed the frown. Who wouldn't?

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ichigo smirked, extremely pleased that his erection was going to be satisfied tonight with the help of somebody else. "It's nothing."

Grimmjow then roughly pressed his lips against Ichigo. It wasn't like the pussy sparklers that lit up whenever he touched mouths with Shinji - more like dynamite exploding in the back of his head. He loved it, and showed so by pressing his tongue against Grimmjow's closed mouth, which didn't stay closed for very long.

Ichigo's hands wandered, or they tried to. Grimmjow, obviously the dominant type, grabbed Ichigo's wrists and pinned them above his head to keep the redhead squirming under his grasp.

"Let go." Ichigo broke away from the kiss, gasping.

"You don't sound very convincing, eh?" Grimmjow kissed Ichigo again, harder this time. They explored each other's mouth ravenously. Tongues rubbed together while Grimmjow's foot brushed Ichigo's to spread the singer's legs. Ichigo's eyes widened.

"N-No. Not here..." Ichigo grunted.

Grimmjow bit softly on Ichigo's neck, marking him. "Then your place." Ichigo thought of Shinji's reaction and his heart beat faster, if possible. Grimmjow felt Ichigo's knees buckle and spoke again: "How about mine?"

"Sounds great."

Ichigo followed Grimmjow out the door, out the club, and into the unknown.

AN: Hey, all. This is Why No Revival (Revival is easier to say, I suppose.) I decided to put this long-ass author's note at the end because I figured it would be easier to get into the mood of the story without all these things on your mind. I would like to say a few things.

A) Sorry for the tension buildup with not a single hint of lemon. Maybe an orange or a lime. I've written before - just nothing sexual. In fact this is my first time writing a kiss/make-out session. I personally prefer to read stories with a lot of tension and gratifying kisses, rather than come-and-go lemons. So, this is story is mainly M for language and references. I apologize that I will probably not grant a full-on lemon until I've practiced up on writing them. Trust me - this is for your sake!

B) You might be confused about the musical situation. Lemme explain. Ichigo and Renji are in a band called Soul Society. They are fairly popular in Japan, but not in America. They are in tour in America, so they are playing smaller venues. The setting in the first segment is somebody's house. Shinji refers to Renji as his roommate because they are roommates - back in Japan. They are in somebody else's house because not all bands get to stay in fancy hotels. Being someone who actually is in the music scene, I like to think I made the right decision in putting them in someone else's house. Whose? You'll find out.

C) I apologize if the tones don't match up throughout this chapter. My mom kept walking in the room while I was writing the more sexual scenes, so I was kind of having a heart attack while writing this!

D) Yes. Ichigo, Shinji, and Grimmjow all act slightly different: horny!Ichigo, shy!Shinji, and solemn!Grimmjow are what I would describe them as. This is because this is how I view them. Of course, Grimmjow can get wild, Ichigo can get flustered, and Shinji can get pervy, but this is a slow burn and everything will take time. By the by, Ichigo has the accent because his mother taught him English, and she's full on Irish.

E) The list goes on! This story has humor, romance, and drama. I put it as Romance & Humor because it has less drama than humor. Just clarifying.

F) Finally. I am a horribly fickle person. I love encouragement, and I know it's a bad habit to only write when spurred on by others, but I need reviews to function. Even if it's just a "liked it." I will feel inspired, but feel free to get wordy.

Please let me know how you like the story! I'm going to start writing the second chapter in a few hours, but it won't be up for a while (who knows how long?)

Thanks for reading. Really.


	2. Bad Ideas

AN: I was really pumped after reading the first few reviews...

Also, I believe a reviewer pointed out that Ichigo plays drums and sings... I thought I'd do that because my dad sings and drums and it looks really cool. (In some ways, Ichigo really reminds me of my dad...)

I will try to respond to all reviews!

Chapter Two - Bad Ideas

Franz Ferdinand - No You Girls

Ichigo woke in an unfamiliar bed.

It certainly wasn't the first time. Before his life had become intertwined with Shinji's, he never really slept with anybody twice in a row, unless he forgot their face and met them in a bar again. After an ocean of alcohol, everybody's body looks insanely attractive. Ichigo wasn't one to admit his flaws, but even he had to say he was a slut in his sexual salad days. He wasn't loose, he just couldn't say no. Thankfully, Shinji had been able to cure his addiction before it spiraled out of control and he was left a sex-craving homeless man under a park bench.

Now, here he was, with two thoughts jumping around in his already pounding skull like angry kangaroos.

_My ass in in an astronomical amount of pain._

And.

_Shinji is going to find out and kill me slowly._

The entire situation dawned on him like a ton of bricks as he took the scenery in - the handwritten note on the bedside table, the empty dent in the mattress next to him, the smell of dirty sheets.

He had just cheated on Shinji. Shit. He took a silent oath to never consume that much alcohol again. (At least when that sexually frustrated.) While last night had been spectacular, it left him feeling repugnant and inexperienced. This... this... blue-haired man had popped his proverbial, anal cherry. Someone he had never met before yesterday had taken one of his firsts.

Ichigo tried to collect his thoughts but only found himself ramming his clenched fists against the oak headboard behind him. If he just quietly left before the blue-haired man came back, nobody would notice. It couldn't be that late...

The bedside clock proclaimed him wrong with its bright green, cubic lettering: 1:01.

What? WHAT?

Using the bed as a catalyst, Ichigo sprang upward from underneath the sky blue sheets to what he presumed were his clothes. They went from being a crumpled mess on the floor to a crumpled mess on his body. After lacing up his Sauconys, he gave the note a wary glance. The dreaded One Night Stand Note. Feeling he didn't have anything else to lose, he snatched it up. Ichigo snorted at the chicken-scratch, which was only somewhat legible once he squinted his eyes.

I stepped out for a bit.

(xxx) 842.9025

Grimmjow

Oh, yeah. Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows and carelessly shoved the paper in his pocket without a second's hesitation. His name was Grimmjow. Ichigo adjusted his pants as they were slipping off of his hips with each step he took. These pants were awfully baggy. They also seemed a different shade from last night. Shrugging to himself, he dismissed it and left the house.

::::

Bombay Bicycle Club - Sixteen

As Ichigo opened the door to the house he, his boyfriend, and his band mate were staying at, he realized that these pants were, in fact, not his own. As if destiny wanted to rub salt in the wound, the aforementioned two were seated next to each other with serious looks on their faces.

When Ichigo made eye contact with Shinji, he felt guilt wash over him instantly. He swore the blonde could see the heat from his blush rolling off of his body.

When Ichigo made eye contact with Renji, he could tell that the redhead knew. He supposed it was fairly obvious when Grimmjow ran out of the building, his strong hand firmly wrapped around Ichigo's, and even more so when he noticed the blip in Ichigo's wardrobe.

Ichigo sent psychic messages to Renji and only hoped that he would receive them.

"Those pants..." Shinji pointed out. He wasn't one for pleasantries.

Panic filled Ichigo, but he managed to sputter out a lie. "Last night, I spilled beer all over myself." He glanced at Renji before continuing. "Renji happened to have some clothes in his trunk, so he let me borrow them." He sat down next to Shinji, whose eyes were less doubtful after hearing the total lie. Their fingers interlaced and they smiled. As much as Ichigo loved a good lay, he couldn't complain about the way Shinji shyly took his hands in his. He had missed this. Last night, while it had been hot, had been so cold. A familiar warmth coursed between their palms and Ichigo smiled at Shinji.

"You do smell kind of musty." Shinji replied, sighing. "Did you do well last night?"

"Rocked it. Wish you had been there." Maybe I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess.

"Oh, Ichigo, before you l-, uh, while you were changing pants drunkenly in my car... I found a bassist." Renji murmured hesitantly.

"Sweet!" Finally, something to distract him! Ichigo turned so he could make eye contact with Renji, who seemed busy with looking everywhere but at Ichigo. "Can I meet him?"

"Well, um, I invited him over. He should be here soon."

"Is he good?"

"Yeah, he let me listen to some of his stuff on his iPod, but then he had to go. He's completely free. Got nothing to do. He's willing to tour with us and write bass lines for all our songs. Or, at least, as many as he can."

"Fuck yeah." Their manager, Toshiro, might actually crack a smile. He had been on their asses from the beginning to get a bassist. Hopefully, this guy would meet the standards.

The three sat there, only talking when the silence became too much to handle. Shinji and Ichigo exchanged words about Shinji's latest job drama and the weather, while Renji only interjected to ask if they wanted some coffee. Ichigo said yes, while Shinji said no; he had orange juice earlier. At some point (Ichigo couldn't say when,) Shinji had laid his head down on Ichigo's shoulder. He had nearly had a heart attack. Ichigo wondered why, of all times, that Shinji was being affectionate now, especially with the occurrences of the previous night still looming overhead like ravenous vultures. However, he chose to not question it and just let his mind focus on Shinji's deep breathing, which was starting to sync with his.

It was a perfect moment, that is - until fate knocked on the door hard and loud.

"Oh, it must be him." Renji set the coffee pot down, coffee sloshing along the sides, and sprinted over toward the door. He unlocked it, opened it an inch, paused, and then swung it open.

Ichigo's eyes were assaulted with orange plaid, bright blue hair, and a pair of equally blue eyes.

"Ichigo, Shinji, meet Grimmjow, our bassist."

An "oh shit" silently formed on Ichigo's lips as Grimmjow's eyes glued to his and Shinji's interlocked hands.

::::

"What the fuck, man. What. The. Fuck." Ichigo hissed at Renji, now that they were in a room alone.

"Ichigo, seriously, I didn't know. I talked with him before you two..." Renji shook his head in disappointment. "Y'know, I don't know why you're yelling at me. If you could've just kept your dick in your pants-"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Ichigo threw his arms up in exasperation while flames danced behind his pupils. "Fuckin' Shinji won't give me the fuckin' light of day when it comes to down-" He pointed to his crotch. "-Here, but now that I've gone and let some other guy stick his dick in me, he's all over me like some teenage girl? This is some fucked up shit. Fucked up shit." He stressed the last three words like a death threat.

"Ichigo, stop saying 'fuck.' You're making me uncomfortable."

"Fuck you, Renji." Ichigo sneered. "Let's just tell him to go on his way."

"Ichi, you don't even know how good this guy is! He's a god. I swear, Ichigo, I swear to whatever is up there." Renji pleaded, his hands clasped together in a position usually reserved for praying. "Just give him a chance. You can just tell him to forget about it."

"Forget it? Renji, honestly, even if he forgets it, I won't."

"Then get him to keep his lips sealed." Ichigo wished away the perverted images that invaded his minds upon hearing Renji's choice selection of words.

"I'll try, I guess." He muttered, scratching the back of his head.

::::

Vocaloid (Len) -Spice

"Hey, Ichigo?"

"Yeah, Sunshine?" Ichigo continued to use the adoration-soaked nickname. It made him feel like he hadn't done anything wrong - like they were a normal couple (save Ichigo's rising career and Shinji's piano key smile.) Ichigo spoke those eight letters with such tenderness that a nun's prayer seemed calloused in comparison. The nickname acted as a good luck charm, a mantra to soothe his boiling soul. Mostly, though, he was afraid he would slip up and call Shinji the other name - Grimmjow.

"... Nevermind." Shinji shook his head back and forth softly as if he moved with any more force, his head might roll off of his shoulders. "It's just..."

"What is it?"

Ichigo walked over to Shinji and wrapped his arms around Shinji's frail, thin waist. He had forgotten how delicate Shinji was: like a mirror. His hazel eyes had the ability to reflect the core of your very soul and if you made the wrong move, he would shatter, along with your reflection.

"That Grimmjow guy. Is it just me or...?"

"What?" Ichigo's body froze around Shinji's.

"He looked, frankly, pissed."

Ichigo bit down on his bottom lip and pressed his cheek to Shinji's softly. "Some people can't help but look angry all the time, Shinji. Remember how I used to be?"

Shinji emitted a slow sigh. Ichigo focused on how it felt when Shinji's lungs filled and collapsed beneath his hands. "It scared me."

Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

"I just thought that maybe... Well, with the way he was looking at us."

Ichigo swallowed hard. God, this secret - mistake - whatever you want to call it was tearing his conscience to pieces. He was getting more and more paranoid by the minute.

"I thought he was a homophobe."

Ichigo's eyes widened in relief and fright. He chuckled throatily, earning a scowl from his boyfriend. "Oh, Shinji! I'm sure he wasn't. Y'know, I bet Renji even told him so he would be shocked."

Shinji sighed again, this time in total relief. "I was so worried!"

"You have nothing to worry about, Sunshine." Ichigo lied straight through his gritted teeth.

::::

The Red Hot Chili Peppers - Easily

Ichigo inhaled sharply, mentally and physically preparing himself for the oncoming tornado. It was time for the first practice with Grimmjow. He had to keep from staring at Grimmjow's impeccable figure, the toned muscle of his arms, the shit-eating grin he had displayed so openly in the bar bathroom...

Shit.

He really needed to stop. This was so utterly, completely wrong. Not even the wrong that felt good. He felt absolutely disgusting when he thought about Grimmjow and it wasn't even the guy's fault! This was all riding on Ichigo's shoulders.

With one last swipe across his pant leg to wipe off any visible dust, Ichigo stepped into the garage that the owner of the house had so graciously let them use.

"I feel like a teenager in here!" Renji smashed a cigarette with his heel before plugging in his guitar. "What, are we in tenth grade again?"

Grimmjow just stood there with his arms folded over each other, eyes boring into Ichigo's with judgement dripping from his jet-black pupils. "Ichigo, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with you after practice. It won't be long."

Ichigo gulped and forced a smile that he felt looked more like a fish-face. "Sure." The less words he spoke, the more control he had over his wavering voice.

"Let's start!" Renji impatiently patted the face of his raggedy, brown Tesco. It had scratches all over, each one holding a different gig and story. A black Fender precision bass rested against Grimmjow's abs. It looked like he treasured it - it had not a blemish in sight. That or he was all talk and never played.

Ichigo was quickly proven wrong.

They had asked Grimmjow to play "a 'lil something" for them. He immediately launched into a bass line that Ichigo didn't recognize at first. It was steady and funky. It was a few measures before Ichigo recognized the song.

"AY!" Renji exclaimed while he observed Grimmjow's dancing fingers. "You're not bad, Grimmjow!"

"Is that...?"

Grimmjow halted. "Easily." He licked his lips and sipped the PBR can he had set next to his amp. "Red Hot Chili Peppers." He cocked an eyebrow and looked at Ichigo with that same look - the one that he had on when Ichigo walked in the garage.

Renji and Grimmjow bumped fists while Ichigo sat awkwardly behind his drum set. He tapped nervously on the snare with his fingers.

"You rocked that." Grimmjow beamed at Renji's compliment.

"Pretty good." However, he did not at Ichigo's.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Renji grabbed a forest green pick and plucked out the riff slowly to get a taste for it. "Ichigo, let's play him an easy one. How about Mother Of Roadkill?"

"Okay." After witnessing the confused expression that surfaced on Grimmjow face, Ichigo helpfully added: "It's not _actually_ called Mother Of Roadkill." He flipped a drumstick and caught it before it touched his thigh. "It's called Bible Belt."

"Mother Of Roadkill is much more fitting. That's all that's in the Bible Belt - gas stations, rednecks, and roadkill. Not to insult, Grimmjow."

His nostrils flared for but a moment. "I get it, it's cool." He was most definitely restraining himself. Perhaps underneath that blue hair dye, he was also a ginger?

Ichigo tapped his drumsticks together three times above his head and they launched into a musical frenzy.

After the set, they were all sweating. Grimmjow had gone through a few cans, Renji had smoked only two cancer sticks, and Ichigo had made the effort to stay away from the Pabst that had been giving him the bedroom eyes all evening.

"You know you want me." The can said seductively, its contours sexier than any ass he had ever seen.

"Oh, yes, I do want you." Ichigo licked his lips as he imagined it hitting his tongue. The cold beer rushing down his throat. The aluminum pressed against his chapped lips.

"Uh, what?" Grimmjow growled angrily.

All possible retorts got caught in Ichigo's windpipe. "Uh, I definitely wasn't talking to you."

Renji paused uncomfortably and just left the room with his gear not even set up. Ichigo would put up the guitar and amp after... gulp... dealing with Grimmjow.

"_Yeah_, okay." Grimmjow let the almost pick up line roll off his back, but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise. "Anyways, we need to talk, Ichigo," The way he said his name sent electric tingles through his dick. Jesus, shit, Christ.

Ichigo didn't quite know what to say.

"If you had just told me that you had a boyfriend, back there in the bathroom, I wouldn't have kept going."

Ichigo averted Grimmjow's blue gaze while regret filled the pit of his stomach. He was extremely happy that Shinji was out buying groceries at this particular juncture in time. "Do you know how hard it is to refuse sex when you're so drunk you can't spell drunk and you have a raging hard-on?"

"That's not a good excuse. I'm sorry I tempted you, but it's still not a good excuse."

Ichigo's eyes ghosted over Grimmjow's godlike body and he shivered at the memory of touching it. It had been like a brick wall, not uncomfortable though. Like a comfortable brick wall, if that makes sense. Of course it doesn't make sense...

"I can't tell Shinji."

"I don't give a shit if you tell him or not. It just can't happen again." Grimmjow toyed with the hem of his black v-neck in a way that was almost sinful. "I don't wanna be your fuckin' mistress. I want you like hell, but I don't want to have to sneak around people's backs."

Woah. What?

Ichigo had just been reintroduced to bathroom Grimmjow - the one who let go of all restraints. His speech got lazier as he got angrier, and it made the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stand up straighter than soldiers.

"Okay...?"

Grimmjow smirked wider than the Cheshire Cat. "But, ya know. If you ever decide you want to bump off that blondie of yers, ya know I'll be here." And with that, he left.

AN: Ugh, I'm sorry that this chapter jumps all over the place.

Okay, and seriously? 100+ hits and less than ten reviews? Please, guys, I'm dying here.

Stay tuned for next time. And always, thanks for reading.


	3. Rock, Paper, Telephone

AN: Hey, all. I have an important connection in this story that I'd like to point out. I don't think that it will give away any of the story line - just make it easier to understand.

In chapter one, Ichigo was referred to as glass - delicate, while he was being approached by Grimmjow. In chapter two, Ichigo referred to Shinji as a mirror - he was delicate and he often showed Ichigo his true self - while he was approaching Shinji. This is just a peek at Ichigo's internal battle of whether or not he wants to dominate or be dominated, which of course, will ultimately decide whether or not he stays with Shinji or scurries off to Grimmjow.

Oh, and yes. Most of these characters are bilingual, for my sake. I hate language barriers. Unless it says otherwise, assume that they understand each other.

Right now, the gang is in Oklahoma, if you didn't catch that from the first chapter. Not for long, though. Gotta keep moving!

Chapter Three - Rock, Paper, Telephone

M.I.A - Boyz

"Ichigo?"

Silence.

"Ichigo?"

Silence.

"Ichigo!"

A stir.

"Ichigo, I swear to fucking God, if you don't wake up, I will actually kill you."

Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to block out the sun that was currently invading the lavender room he had been sleeping so peacefully in. It hit his eyes like knives, piercing his pupils and stabbing at his overworked brain. He had been thinking so hard lately that his cranium rewarded him with mind-splitting headaches. It was just so hard. Grimmjow was a topic that he couldn't seem to drop. If Ichigo had nothing to do, he'd find himself wondering what Grimmjow was doing. Feh. He was starting to act like a schoolgirl... which made him think about Shinji. Did Shinji get all mushy over Ichigo too? Did he suffer the same what-ifs?

"I'm giving you three seconds before I suffocate you with your own pillow. 3... 2..."

Ichigo sat up, now officially pissed. His expression faded, however, once he saw that brilliantly black mop top of glistening black hair and displeased scowl. "Tatsuki!"

"It's about time, dumbass." She sighed, her countenance softening as well.

"The whole time we've been here, I've only seen you twice."

Yes, Ichigo and the crew had been staying at Tatsuki Arisawa's house, She and the drummer had been good friends throughout junior high and high school, but once college hit, Ichigo started playing gigs at shitty bars and Tatsuki travelled across the globe to compete in martial arts competitions. There was no doubt that she could have killed Ichigo in five seconds flat - she held several first place belts in her trophy case, which was just a shoe box in her basement. She was proud and extremely humble at the same time - as any true martial artist should be. Once she had achieved second dan, she decided to move to the States, where she started her own dojo from the ground up. She was very successful - she had around twenty loyal students who she taught rolls and punches every Monday and Wednesday.

"I know. I was planning shit." Way to be vague, Tatsuki. She was never one for elaborating on boring things.

That didn't dissuade Ichigo. He pulled the blankets off of himself and started to pull skinny jeans over his boxers. Neither was dissuaded by the action. Tatsuki was well aware of Ichigo's sexual preference and Ichigo just really didn't give a shit. "Planning what?"

"Wedding." She mumbled. Ichigo's head whipped around and he stared at her with wide eyes.

"Whose?"

"Mine."

Ichigo zipped up his pants and started pulling a gray v-neck over his head. "Who's the lucky guy?" He asked through the cotton.

"Chad." She looked down, slightly embarrassed that she was settling down.

"Chad?"

"Is there a fucking echo in here?" She snapped, molten chocolate burning with the intensity of a thousand suns.

"Why don't you just cut to the fucking chase and tell me how it happened!"

"Goddamnit, Ichigo! Everyone said your boyfriend cooled you down."

Ichigo gritted his teeth and puffed up his chest in what he hoped was a manly manner. "Fucking tell me what happened, Tatsuki. I'm tired of beating around the bush."

"We met. We went on dates. We-" she continued quietly. "-fell in love. I popped the question. He said yes."

"Oh, thanks. Thanks for clearing that the fuck up." Ichigo exhaled through his clenched teeth. Tatsuki really knew how to fire him up. Seriously, they were like fire and oil. No, more like a volcano and tornado.

"By the way, your phone had been ringing off the hook." Tatsuki motioned to the phone next to the remnants of Ichigo's midnight snack - a Snickers wrapper. "I finally picked it up and damn! Whoever that Hitsugaya guy is... He needs the stick removed from his ass."

"Toshir- Hitsugaya called?"

Tatsuki just gave him a puzzled look. "That' s what I just fucking said, dumbass."

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" Ichigo ignored the cuss words that spewed form Tatsuki's mouth as she left the room. He grabbed the wrapper on accident, put it down, and picked up the phone as he had meant to. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he dialed Hitsugaya's number.

It rang three times before the white-haired manager picked up.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." The voice on the other line hissed. "I have called you exactly fifteen times. Fifteen. This is not acceptable. When I call, I expect you to pick up. I don't care if you have your head stuck in a hornet's nest. You pick up the phone." There was a pause. "Got it?"

"Why didn't you just call Renji if it was so important?"

Hitsugaya huffed and pinched his nose. "You're not getting the point, Ichigo. You have a responsibilities and they are to: stay in shape, practice your music, find a bassist, and answer the goddamned phone when I call."

The man was so cold you could have skated across him.

"I fucking get it, Toshiro."

"Don't say 'fuck' when you talk to me, and refer to me as Hitsugaya."

Ichigo 'pshh'd. "Fine. And by the way, we found a bassist."

"Is going to come back to Japan with you?"

"Yeah. He hasn't said otherwise, I mean."

"Well, that's not a yes. That's a maybe. I need a yes."

"Well, then, yes - he can come back to Japan with us." Ichigo sighed into the mouthpiece. What a great morning.

"You just said that he hadn't spoken a word on the matter. Go call up this bassist- wait, is he good?"

"Yes..."

"Okay, so call up this bassist and ask him if he can come back to Japan. And I swear to God, don't let him play a gig before I hear him! Do you know whose name is on this?"

"Mine?" Ichigo smirked.

"No, Ichigo. Mine. Sure, when the teenage girls look at your album, they see your name, but when the big music execs look at the album, they see my name, and I can't afford to have you screw up when you're under my direct orders."

"Calm the f- calm down."

The phone sounded like it was being tossed around. All Ichigo could make out was: "Matsumoto! Put that back! Matsu-"

"Sorry." Hitsugaya grunted. Ichigo could practically hear the man scowling through the phone.

"S'alright."

"So, I need you to send me a recording of this guy playing by himself and with you guys as soon as possible."

"We don't have a lot of recording equipment. Just our phones."

"Then record something on your goddamned phones at the next practice."

Hitsugaya hung up.

Ichigo shoved the phone in his pocket with a groan and walked into the kitchen\dining area, where Shinji was calmly sipping a glass of orange juice while he sifted through the newspaper. He smiled weakly at Ichigo before continuing with his activities. Renji was trying to help Tatsuki prepare breakfast, but the two had never really meshed all that well, so the food had ended up more so on the tiled floor and counter than on the plates.

"I made pancakes." Tatsuki turned to Ichigo, a pristine, white plate with a tower of pancakes on it in her hand.

"_We_ made pancakes." Renji pivoted on his feet to reveal that he was wearing a pink apron. God knows where he got it.

"No, dipshit, _I_ made pancakes and _you_ spilled batter everywhere." Ichigo took in the mess with twinkling eyes.

"Hey, who died and made you Rachel Ray?" Renji pointed accusatorially at Tatsuki, as if we all didn't know who he was talking to.

"That name will never be mentioned in this house!" She slapped his across the face with her rubber spatula, leaving a pink imprint on his cheek.

"Goddamnit!" Renji rubbed at the blemish like he had contracted leprosy. He ran into the bathroom to inspect it. Tatsuki casually set down their breakfast as if she hadn't just abused Renji.

"I didn't know you cooked. I thought that was Orihime's forte." Ichigo took an awfully large bite of his pancake after dousing it in syrup.

"I was just too busy with martial arts." She shrugged. "Speaking of Orihime, I kind of lost contact with her after high school. What's she up to?"

"I was hoping you knew. I hit the road hours after we got our diplomas."

Shinji lifted his eyes from the newspaper and glanced at the two. "Orihime Inoue?"

"Yeah, you know her?" Ichigo widened his eyes in shock.

"She's married." He drew out the sentence as if it wasn't a big deal. "To that fashion designer, Ishida Uryu. I did an article on him not so long ago. They're a cute couple."

"Agh! Married to that four-eyes jerk?" Ichigo yanked on his hair. "Of all people!"

"I'm not surprised.." Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. "She got tired of waiting for you."

"What was she waiting for? For me to suddenly abandon my interest in dicks?" Ichigo scoffed, shoving another pancake between his cheeks. Shinji blushed hard from behind the newspaper.

"She didn't know, Ichigo. She's so oblivious. It broke her heart when she saw you and Shuuhei making out behind the bleachers."

A little bit of pancake fell out of Ichigo's gaping mouth.

"Chew with your mouth closed, Ichigo." Shinji reached over and shut his boyfriend's mouth, a little irritated at the subject of Ichigo's ex boyfriend.

Ichigo swallowed the pancake. "I had no idea she saw that. Damn. Ugh, I feel like shit. When did this happen?"

"You and Shuuhei ate each other's face on _several_ occasions? I thought it was a one time thing." Tatsuki ate a piece of pancake slowly.

"Well, it _was_ a one time thing. There were several one time things with Shuuhei."

"You're so..." Tatsuki shook her head and focused on eating.

::::

Cibo Matto - Flowers

Shinji planted a chaste kiss on Ichigo's pursed lips and murmured something into his hair.

"Huh?" Ichigo said dumbly.

"I said I'm sorry." Shinji pressed his face into Ichigo's shoulder.

"Why?" To comfort him, he petted his soft, blonde hair.

"I haven't been paying a lot of attention to you. I've been so busy."

"Yeah..." Ichigo averted his eyes. "About that. What's been keeping you away?"

Shinji looked up with furrowed eyebrows. His hazel eyes gleamed in the soft, natural lighting of noon. "Work." He said the word like Ichigo has just asked him what two plus two is.

"Mm-hmm." Ichigo pouted. "Can't you put off work? Can't we have some fun tonight?" He played with Shinji's shirt collar flirtatiously. "It's been so long."

Shinji leaned into Ichigo's hands with a mournful sigh. "I'm on a really big project right now. I have to go somewhere tonight."

"Somewhere?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow, his hands still on the blonde. "Are you trying to make me suspicious?"

"It's just work, Ichigo. I'm meeting up with some people." He placed another kiss on Ichigo's cheek to make the words concrete. "A big project, seriously." He repeated for emphasis.

"When will we ever get to-" Ichigo made a circle with one hand and stuck his index finger in and out of the circle. "Seriously." He added at seeing Shinji chuckle.

"Soon, soon. I promise I'll be free, but right now I have to go make some phone calls." He separated his body from Ichigo's and headed toward the bathroom.

"In the bathroom?"

Shinji looked over his shoulder. "I can't have you and Renji cussing in the background. It's an important call."

Ichigo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What was Shinji doing? Well, only one way to figure out.

In moments, Ichigo had a cup pressed to the bathroom door to eavesdrop on the "important phone call."

"Uh-huh." A laugh from Shinji. God, he had such a cute laugh. It was like bells. Pretty bells, not those horrible, huge ones that feel like they're ringing in your stomach. Small bells. Tinkling bells. But why was he laughing so adorably?

Ichigo listened harder.

"Yes, I get that." A pause as the other party spoke. "Mm-hmm. Actually, I haven't been there... Yeah. I don't know. I'm not really into Japanese. Sure, I was born there, but still."

Was he... Was he arranging a date?

"Italian? Yeah, I'm good with Italian. Much more refined. It's weird how it's on the other side, of course, but still..."

What else could he be talking about? Ichigo tried not to punch the door. Here he was, feeling so guilty about the Grimmjow incident, and Shinji was arranging dates!

"I'll see you tonight." A pause. " No? That's actually better. why?" He laughed angelically again. "I need you all to myself, that's why." He growled seductively. "That's how you get the best stuff!"

Ichigo was now holding back tears. Shit shit. A taste of his own medicine, but at least Shinji didn't listen to him and Grimmjow...

"I'll see you at six." Shinji hung up.

Ichigo slyly stepped away from the door and pretended he was just finishing a glass of water. Shinji smiled at him. No, he beamed. It was so bright - like looking into the sun.

Ichigo's eyes bore in Shinji's back as he walked away. That's it. He would follow Shinji to this little secret date of his tonight, and bust him.

AN: Oh, dear. There certainly is drama now, though? I introduce some new characters... I love Tatsuki. She is probably my favorite to write. Also, sorry that most of this chapter was on the telephone, but it's just such a useful plot device! Muahahaha. I'll let you decide what you think is going on with our Shinji boy. I dare you to try and fill in the gaps in the phone conversation.


	4. Let That Be A Lesson

AN: -Clasps hands together- You all are the best. Even though I bug you for more reviews, don't think for a moment that I am unhappy with what you have written me thus far! Every word ya'll have typed is music to my ears. Keep it up! See how fast I can update? I have the ability!

i would like to preface that you will probably hate Ichigo in this chapter... I don't like this chapter... So much drama.

Chapter Four - Let That Be A Lesson

Passion Pit - Little Secrets

Never let it be said that Ichigo is a good make-up artist.

In fact, never let it be said that Ichigo is a make-up artist in general.

The redhead examined his reflection doubtfully. He was trying to disguise himself for his spying expedition, but thus far he had only managed to succeed in making himself look like a hooker. How do people do it? He had smeared a little of Tatsuki's unused make-up on his cheeks to make them look softer and ever-so-slightly thinned his eyebrows using skin-color eyeshadow.

It was all going nicely until he, out of curiosity, opened a jar that had no label. He made the mistake of exhaling as he unscrewed the top and his breath sent purple glitter flying everywhere like a sparkly swarm of gnats - mostly into his lungs and on his face.

"Fuck." He muttered, wetting a paper towel and dabbing at his face. The glitter stuck like herpes.

"There must be _something_." He said aloud as he rummaged through the cabinets. He hoped Tatsuki wouldn't hear him and go on a rampage. His hands settled on a lint roller, which he eyed cautiously before rolling it across his face.

"It kind of works..." He rolled it over his chin and cheeks, effectively removing the makeup as well as the horrendous, purple glitter. "Whatever."

He ended up throwing on a stocking cap, a pair of black Ray-Bans, and a long, heavy scarf to cover his scowling face, despite the pleasant spring weather they were having in Wherever, Oklahoma.

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably as he watched Shinji walk toward the downtown area. The blonde whistled Passion Pit's Little Secrets for three blocks straight. Damn, seriously? Ichigo was going to have to break disguise to throttle his boyfriend. While Shinji pressed that he wasn't a flaming homosexual, his music taste said otherwise. Ichigo sometimes wondered how they were together when they argued over what to listen to in the van. Lady Gaga or B-Dash? Ichigo felt the answer was obvious.

When Shinji shut up, Ichigo guessed that they were at the place where he was having his secret date.

Ichigo lingered while Shinji entered the restaurant. Best not to follow too close. However, Ichigo was known for being brash and impatient.

He waited about twenty seconds before scurrying into the building. He took a seat where he could monitor the pleather booth Shinji had just sat at. Only moments after Shinji had sat down, a man slid into the seat across from him.

No, this was no ordinary man. This was a... seriously attractive man. Gorgeous, y'know, if he didn't look so sketchy.

He wore his sleek, designer suit as if it were a pair of pajamas. It fit his thin frame perfectly. It was clear he had money and he wasn't afraid to spend it. His butter yellow tie was impeccably straight, and a small, matching kerchief poked out from his pocket. The only thing that seemed off about him was the way his thin smile and narrowed eyes were completely focused on Shinji, who was talking up a storm, smiling happily.

Ichigo only caught pieces of their conversation.

The more he heard, the more gin and tonics he ordered.

::::

The Unicorns - Les Os

Shinji leaned forward, his head resting on the backs of his hands as he listened intently.

"I do have a secret talent." The narrow-eyed man said.

"And what would that be, if I may ask?"

The man leaned forward a whispered something into Shinji's ear. A million different hues of red graced Shinji's face, which made Ichigo grip his empty glass tighter. The man retreated with a devious smirk, and Shinji with wide eyes.

"R-really?"

"Really. Would you like me to show you?"

Shinji crossed his arms and flailed dramatically. "Oh, no! Please, not here. Not in public! Maybe some other time when innocent, unsullied people aren't around."

"Okay!" The man grinned, completely unperturbed. "Let's go on!"

Shinji looked down at his lap. Was he nervous or was he holding something? Ichigo looked over the rims of his sunglasses to get a better view, but had to turn the other way when he nearly locked eyes with Shinji.

"Um..." Shinji looked down again, and then up at the man. "Are you planning on seeing anyone exclusively?"

"Well, I can see you-" The man motioned to a family a few booths down. "I can see them." His eyes settled on Ichigo, who was furiously downing another drink. "And I can see that man. Perhaps he should be cut off, neh? But I can see everyone. Not just one person, "exclusively," as you put it."

Shinji stared at Ichigo for one moment before turning back to the man. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry if the question is intrusive, it's just a general-"

"FUCK IT."

All eyes in the room turned to stare at the man who sported sunglasses, a scarf, and a stocking cap.

"Sir," one of the waiters held his hands out cautiously as if Ichigo might attack him. "I need you to calm down or leave."

"Well, fucking pardon me." Ichigo sneered, slamming down some money. He didn't know how much - he didn't bother to count and he wouldn't have been able to if he tried. "You know what? Fuck you." He pivoted to stare straight at Shinji, who was realizing who the masked crusader was. "And fuck you, most of all, Shinji." He turned on his heels, stomping out of the restaurant like a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum.

"Ichigo?" Shinji stood up suddenly, the nearly-filled notebook that had been on his lap falling to the floor with a slap. "Ichigo!"

He was too late. The temperamental redhead had already stormed out.

The man furrowed his eyebrows. "Did ya know him?"

"Yeah-" Shinji stopped himself. "Yeah. Sometimes, I don't."

::::

Chester French - She Loves Everybody

Ichigo stared at the slip of paper in his hand. It was the One Night Stand Note. He had kept it in the back of his pants and never taken it out.

His eyes ran over the number for the millionth time. He had memorized by now, but the handwriting was comforting to read. He reached for his phone and stared at the screen. It was a picture of the rising sun. He had taken it right after the plane landed in Florida.

_"Are you sure it's okay that I came with you, Ichigo?" Shinji gripped the sleeve of Ichigo's hoodie tightly, eyes brimming with doubt._

_"Of course, Sunshine!" Ichigo beamed. To prove his words, he nuzzled the top of his boyfriend's head lovingly. "Why wouldn't I want you here with me, experiencing America?"_

_"I just hear stories..."_

_"Pssh! Stories, stories! Are any of them really true? Who cares?" Ichigo rummaged in his pockets for his phone._

_"What are you doing?" Shinji lifted his head to look at what Ichigo was doing._

_"I'm going to prove to you that bringing you with me was the best choice I ever made." He switched the phone to its camera setting. "I'll take a picture of the sun and set it as my background. So I can remember the first day we arrived here together. I guarantee that every time I look at my phone background, I won't regret it." He snapped the shot and Shinji beamed._

Ichigo glared at his phone background. He switched to the camera and took a snapshot of the vast, blue sky.

::::

Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man

"It's Grimmjow... Leave a message."

"Grimmjow, it's Ichigo." He mumbled in a monotone. "I'm coming over."

He distinctly remembered the way. Past the park, through the ghetto neighborhood, the brown house second from the corner.

See? Perfect memory when it comes to useless shit.

Before he knew it, he was pounding on Grimmjow's door.

"Who the fuck-" Grimmjow opened the door and stared at Ichigo, who looked like a mess. An angry mess. "Ichigo? What do you want?"

"It's Shinji. We're over."

Their eyes met. Blue mingled with brown for what seemed like hours until something flickered on. Like a lightbulb. They came to an understanding.

"Why don't you come inside?"

AN: Agh, please don't tell me how horrible and short that chapter was. I already know. I just had to write all of this drama, and I hate drawing that shit out. This is by no means, close to the end of the story. There's still a lot more to happen. Remember, nothing is 100% clear yet! I like fluff... I want to write fluff... Ichishin is so fluffy compared to Grimmichi... Eh. I'm off to start writing my next story. I won't abandon this, however. You'll probably get an update in the next few days! Remember to review or else I won't update as fast.


	5. Let That Be A Lesson Remix

AN: Finally, we get to explore Grimmjow's character a bit more. Just a tad.

There's more drama here... And a bit of OOCness.

Chapter Five - Let That Be A Lesson (Remix)

Beach Fossils - Daydream

Ichigo desperately wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to curl up until he was a ball of flesh and raw emotion. Unfortunately, his skeletal structure wouldn't allow it and neither would the man currently spooning him. Grimmjow had wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist and legs around his at some point during the night. Grimmjow had never struck him as a cuddler, but there they were - wrapped up in each other like they were a married couple. Ichigo could feel Grimmjow's every breath on the back of his neck, which made him shiver in the slightest.

The house hadn't changed since last time. It was still slightly messy. The chair in the corner had several outfits thrown over it, probably theirs from last night.

Ichigo blushed hard as he remembered the countless things Grimmjow had done to him last night. He had no idea the human body could, ahem, bend in so many ways.

As he thought about last night, his brain reminded him about Shinji, much to his disdain.

He got angry and focused on the sleeping Grimmjow instead. When his intensely blue eyes weren't visible, he actually looked calm. Go figure. Most people look calm when they're sleeping.

Ichigo felt his brain pound in sync with his heart. He definitely had feelings for Grimmjow now. It was no longer a simple want. However, all Grimmjow had said about his feelings was that he wanted Ichigo "like hell." He didn't want to leave Shinji (urk) to enter a relationship that was all sex and no feelings.

Ugh. Thinking about his feelings so much was starting to hurt.

The sleeping figure beside him stirred.

"Ungh." Grimmjow put so eloquently. "What time is it?"

"Ten."

"Mother of a fuck." Grimmjow sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of eyes like a child. "Want some coffee?"

"I actually could really go for some water. It taste like a possum died in my mouth." Ichigo scraped his wonderfully pink tongue with his teeth.

"Heh." Grimmjow smirked and stood up. It became very apparent that he had not put on any clothes after their romp. "Okay, water it is."

"Uh-" Grimmjow turned around with an expectant look. "Could you put on some clothes?"

Grimmjow suddenly pinned Ichigo to the bed with his knees. Ichigo 'oof'd as the wind was nearly knocked out of him.

"You weren't complaining about it last night..." Grimmjow nipped at Ichigo's sensitive spot that he had discovered last night - the spot where his neck met his shoulders. Ichigo writhed beneath him and the blue-haired man smirked devilishly.

"I-I'm not kidding. It's weird for me."

Grimmjow stood up and started rummaging around the room.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo wondered aloud. Grimmjow threw him a menacing look.

"There." He turned around. "That work?"

Grimmjow was wearing one sock... on his dick.

"Close enough." Ichigo rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed.

"Fine, your highness. I'll go get your water now." Grimmjow scoffed, ran a hand through his electric blue hair, and stalked off to the kitchen without a backward glance at Ichigo.

Ichigo focused on counting his toes until Grimmjow returned. One, two, three... Grimmjow didn't return after he got to ten.

"Grimmjow?"

No reply.

Ichigo stood up, looked around the bedroom, and then approached the kitchen.

Grimmjow was holding the glass of water in his hand and staring intently through the window.

"Grimmjow?"

He turned and Ichigo saw a side of Grimmjow he hadn't before. The blue-haired man's eyes were half-lidded and his eyebrows were knitted together. His mouth was drooping in the corners like an old dog.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just..." Grimmjow shook his head and handed Ichigo the water. Then he turned to stare out the window as if it were a difficult puzzle.

Ichigo drank in Grimmjow. He was still practically naked, which is why it was weird that he was so serious. A contemplative Adonis wearing only a sock. Laughable.

"What are you going to do?" Grimmjow murmured, not moving his eyes.

"I need to stay with Renji for the touring. We have one more gig and then we're going back to Japan. Speaking of... are you going to come to Japan with us?"

Grimmjow chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought. "I guess. What's left for me here?"

::::

Orange Range - Ikenai Taiyo

Ichigo chomped on his gum angrily. His curled up fist hovered over the door. He had forgotten his keys in the house yesterday, before he had gone to stalk Shinji.

Agh.

Shinji.

He _really_ didn't want to deal with the blonde... mostly because, well, they hadn't technically broken up yet.

That was going to be the painful part.

Ichigo knocked once, twice, thrice before a disgruntled blonde opened the door.

"Sh-Shinji."

"Ichigo."

They stood there, simply looking the other over.

"Can I come in?"

Shinji narrowed his eyes and stepped back from the door, which was now wide open.

"Look, Shinji, it's ov-"

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

Ichigo's eyes widened as he noticed Shinji's trembling, balled up fists.

"What?"

"I was in the middle of a very important interview with Gin Ichimaru. Gin Ichimaru!" Shinji shook his head in irritation and focused on the hardwood floor. "Then you decided to completely humiliate me! What were you thinking, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's face was graced with his trademark scowl. "Shinji, don't even lie to me. I know that was a date. I listened to you in the bathroom. You were talking about where to eat and flirting up a fucking storm."

"Food?" Shinji sneered. "We weren't talking about food. I was asking him about his car collection for the interview. Once again, this was for my job."

"Then explain the whispering at the restaurant. Secret talents? Come on."

"He can do the dance for Single Ladies."

"..."

"..."

Ichigo blushed furiously. "Shinji..."

"Ichigo, I am just so angry right now... I've been completely honest with you for this entire relationship. I have not once lied to you, and all of a sudden you think I'm cheating on you? What has been wrong with you?"

"I was angry."

Shinji looked at him expectantly, his eyes asking "why."

"I wasn't getting any..."

Shinji threw up his hands. "Oh, that's why. What a perfectly suitable reason to flip the fuck out. You could have talked to me about it!"

Ichigo bit down hard. "You're always fucking pushing me away because you're so fucking busy all the time. When the fuck was I supposed to talk to you about it?"

"I was too busy to go to concerts or have sex, not _talk_, Ichigo." Upon looking at Ichigo's grief stricken face, he added hesitantly: "There's something else, isn't there?"

Ichigo looked at the toes of his sneakers.

"Ichigo, what else happened?"

"..."

"Ichigo, what the fuck did you do?" Shinji was starting to tear up now. "What did you do?"

"I cheated on you."

Shinji closed his eyes, probably to stop the wave of tears beckoning to spring forth.

"Fuck." Shinji muttered, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Fuck."

"Ichigo, you need to go somewhere. Somewhere else."

Ichigo looked up to see Renji, who was leaning against the wall, shaking his head like he was watching all of this on the HBO channel.

"I just got back here!"

"Please just leave." This time it was Shinji.

"But-"

"Get the fuck out."

AN: Ehhh, another short chapter. Trust me, they will get long again. But, hey! At least I'm updating fast, right?

Yeah, so Ichigo needs somewhere to hang out for the night. I wonder where...

I hate doing this to Shinji... He didn't do a single thing wrong. :(

Next chapter should resolve the Oklahoma drama, as they will be moving onto the next town.

Originally I was going to make this story have two arcs, but now I'm thinking I'm just going to make the second arc the sequel so I can work on my stories without being distracted.

Please review! Reviews are like oil which help the cogs of the story turn. (What a crappy analogy.)


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